


Sunday Morning

by YouGottaBeBlitzenMyHearthstone (Aya_Chi007)



Series: The Chase Space [1]
Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, chase space, many ocs abound, post ship of the dead, pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 18:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12282156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_Chi007/pseuds/YouGottaBeBlitzenMyHearthstone
Summary: Sunday mornings should be lazy. They would be, at least, if the birds could keep their beaks shut.





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> So, this series is just going to be one-shots of Blitzstone and Hearth doing their team dads thing at the Chase Space. All of the OCs in the story are mine

    The bright chirping of birds outside the window is what finally stirs Blitzen from his sleep. He sits up slowly, stretching out the kinks in his muscles underneath his silk pajamas. It’s not even daylight yet. He groans in exhaustion, checking the time on the small alarm clock by the bed. 6:57 am. Dammit. He glances over at Hearthstone, still peacefully asleep under the covers next to him. Despite himself, he can’t help but smile fondly, silently cursing the elf for being able to sleep through the birds’ early morning rehearsals.

 

    Resigned to his fate, Blitzen slides out of bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much so he doesn’t wake Hearthstone. As their rules state: first one up has to cook breakfast and the gods know they have a lot to cook for. He decides to dress casually today, choosing pale gray denim jeans turned up at the cuffs and a white v-neck t-shirt. Nothing too fancy, lest Hearthstone call him a show-off. He tugs on the shirt as he walks out of the closet, ruffling his curls once it’s on. He pauses by the bedside, running his fingers through Hearthstone’s pale hair, smiling at the contrast. They’re like day and night and Blitzen loves it. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to Hearthstone’s forehead, chuckling when his boyfriend just snuggles against his pillow.

 

    Once he makes it downstairs to the kitchen, he immediately sets to work on cooking. Pancakes sounds like a good call: fast and easy. He’s just finished mixing up the batter when a girl with a lithe pixie figure bounds in, her cinnamon colored hair thrown up in a bun on top of her head.

 

    “Morning, Papa Blitz,” she greets happily, bouncing over to fridge to retrieve the maple syrup and a carton of orange juice.

 

    Blitzen sighs. “Ramey, for the last time, you don’t need to call me that. None of you guys call Hearth by some endearing parental nickname.”

 

    Ramey hums as she dances across the kitchen, sunlight from the skylight above rippling across her golden bronze skin. “Yeah, ‘cause Hearth’s the cool dad that lets you get away with stuff,” she answers as though it’s obvious while she grabs a clean glass from the dishwasher. Before Blitzen can even argue with her logic, she continues,“You making anything to go with those stacks or you want me to make some eggs and sausage?”

 

    Shaking his head, Blitzen smiles fondly at the teenager. She’s one of the older ones who has been staying long term. “Sausage sounds like a good match.”

 

    He has the griddle on the huge island in the middle of the kitchen, leaving the stove free for Ramey to fry up some sausage links on. Ramey had showed up at the Chase Space a few months after they opened their doors, battered, bruised, and bleeding. Hearthstone had immediately contacted Magnus to come make sure there wasn’t any internal damage or broken bones. He had paced nervously while Blitzen had cleaned up the blood and dirt from her face, asking about her situation.

 

    Ramey still attends school, registered at a nearby high school as an unaccompanied youth. She’s sort of a favorite of Hearth’s (Blitzen’s too, even though he won’t admit to it), even though Blitzen chides him that these kids won’t be here forever. They’ll eventually leave. Hearthstone usually just turns away so he doesn’t have to see Blitzen sign.

 

    As the food the two of them cook piles up, more of the youth who stay at the shelter frequently start straggling in to grab plates. Blitzen greets them all by name as he flips pancakes on the griddle: Zeke, in his mismatched pajamas that he will never fix no matter how much Blitzen nags at him (“Hey, Papa Blitz.”); Pablo, his long black hair pushed back with a bandana bearing the Italian flag (“ _Buongiorno, Pap_ _à_ Blitz.”); Cam, their short honey locks sticking up in all directions like a mad scientist  (Mornin’ Papa Blitz); Trevante, wearing a ghastly combination of a sweater over basketball shorts (‘Sup, Pops?”); Jayelle, her hair still wrapped, wearing a stylish kimono robe over leggings (Good morning, Papa Blitzen~! How is your morning? Thank you for breakfast!)

 

    “Jayelle, you don’t have to thank me for breakfast every morning,” Bliten tells her kindly after handing her a plate.

 

    “Of course I do, it’s called being polite,” Jayelle says before joining the others at the table.

 

    Blitzen just chuckles before turning off the griddle. They’re all a good group of kids with their own struggles. He starts fixing his own plate, idly listening to the general buzz of conversation at the table, occasionally interrupted by bouts of laughter. He turns to join them at the table just in time to see Hearthstone stumble in, his pale hair messier than Cam’s. Hearth blinks at him before signing,  _ Too early for Sunday. Should still be asleep. _

 

_     Why are you awake then?  _ Blitzen responds after setting his plate down.  _ I know the kids laughing didn’t wake you.  _ He reaches out to straighten out Hearth’s pajama t-shirt.

 

__ Hearthstone rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.  _ Got cold. Woke up and realized you weren’t there. _

 

    Blitzen jumps at the sudden chorus of ‘aww’ coming from the table. He feels his face heat up, cursing under his breath as he remembers they can read sign language. Obviously, Hearth’s been teaching all of them. Hearthstone looks confused until he looks at the table to see Jayelle and Pablo making heart shapes with their fingers, grinning at the sight of him and Blitzen. He turns away quickly, his cheeks flushing pale green, and promptly busies himself with the coffee pot.


End file.
